I’m not Catholic. I spent my early childhood in a Catholic church, and I now identify as a non-denominational (+ progressive) Christian. My journey to faith has been winding, and it’s not something that I speak on frequently. But my faith is at the core of my approach to climate issues and social action. I’m not interested in a faith where followers pat themselves on the back and congratulate themselves on receiving ‘God’s blessing.’ I’m interested in a faith that aspires to be deep in the trenches; a faith that understands that loving others demands action.
There’s a line in the Matthew Chapter 25 of the New Testament that reads: “The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” It’s a pretty famous verse, so there’s a good chance you’ve heard snippets of it whether or not you’ve ever picked up a Bible. But the specifics of the assistance offered here matters: “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’”
Notice that this is a call to action, sometimes even inconvenient action. I can assure you that 2,000 years ago, people didn’t exactly have hundreds of H&M outfits hanging around to easily clothe the less fortunate. But perhaps more to the point, there is nowhere in these lines that says: I was hungry, but I understand boosting Elon’s ego was more important than supporting farmers. I was sick, but by all means cut life-saving international aid projects. I was jailed, but you decided to strip me to my underwear for a heinous political stunt.
One of the questions I consistently reflect on is how to narrow the ‘value-action’ gap: I say I’m a Christian, but I don’t act in a Christ-like manner. I care about the environment, but not enough to stop shopping at Shein. You get the idea.
I haven’t the faintest idea how to solve self-proclaimed Christians who act in despicable ways to their fellow humans. But for the vast majority of people, who I genuinely believe to be well-intentioned, leadership from respected community members can move the needle on action.
Pope Francis, who died on Easter Monday, was one such person for roughly 1.4 billion Catholics. Pope Francis was an unequivocal champion of climate action, and he did not mince his words. He referred to climate change as a “global social issue and one intimately related to the dignity of human life.” He noted that “not every increase in power represents progress for humanity, and spoke extensively about the harms caused by the “selfish and boundless thirst for power.” It was apparent to Francis that the poor and marginalized are those who feel the affects of climate destruction first. To be blunt, I get to sit in my cushy, air-conditioned home writing to you about climate change, while halfway across the world children are literally living in piles of the West’s exported plastic rubbish.
Your relationship to faith, of any form, is yours and yours alone. But my pastor is fond of telling our congregation that we should walk in the world with so much love, generosity, and kindness that people wonder what’s different about us. I think this heart posture is important regardless of your particular faith inclinations— to show up every day with an understanding of other people’s sufferings and struggles. With an understanding that the people we vote for and the companies we support have a real and tangible impact on the lives and well-being of others.
I’m not suggesting that you or I will always make the most morally ‘upright’ decision— the economics of unrestrained capitalism ensures that it’s in corporations best interest to conceal the damage they are causing, and we don’t all have the time to endlessly Google ‘child labor exploitation’ or ‘illegal forestry’ to weigh the harms caused by each corporation against each other. These challenges have been made substantially harder by the current political administration, which is intent on gutting all consumer safety programs and firing everyone with half a conscience. But as Maya Angelou observed, when we know better, we do better.
When we understand the harms caused by plastic pollution, by billionaires and their private jets, by our own purchasing habits that contribute to rising seas and worsening hurricanes, by fracking that leaches dangerous chemicals into our waterways, by any number of environmental ills… we need to act accordingly.
I’m relieved that the Catholic Church chose, in Pope Leo XIV, a leader who is likely to follow in Francis’ climate footsteps. That’s not, of course, to say that everyone will rise to meet the moment. This is a challenging time for American democracy, and a challenging time for international cooperation. The past several months have felt more like a world that is resigned to witnessing destruction and suffering than a world that is willing to rally around solutions, hope, and renewal.
But if you’re a Christian, you may have been recently reminded that Palm Sunday was not a celebration, it was a protest. (New York Times gift link). Certain people conveniently forget that Jesus himself was an impoverished Brown man living in occupied territory. But as Andrew Thayer notes, “Jesus wasn’t killed for preaching love, or healing the sick, or discussing theology routinely debated in the Temple’s courtyards…Rome didn’t crucify philosophers or miracle workers. Rome crucified insurrectionists.” Jesus was an insurrectionist who threatened the imperial control of the Roman Empire, who dared to overturn the tables in the Temple and demand better from the ruling elite.
People of all faiths— or no faith at all— can rally around the idea that the loving thing to do is to take action. We have to demand better from corporations and our governments if we truly want to alleviate suffering now and create a better world for our children. And if you do have any particular faith inclinations, I think it’s important to remember that the actions that help our fellow humans don’t just take place in a giving tray on Sundays.
Religious groups, of course, are no stranger to political action, but a growing number are in fact also embracing climate action: An 82 year old Anglican Reverend was arrested in a Just Stop Oil protest. Nuns have used shareholder advocacy to push banks to divest from fossil fuel projects. Indonesia is experiencing a growing “Green Islam” movement, focused on helping Muslims understand climate action as a “religious duty.” Buddhist monks have fought deforestation by blessing trees in Thailand. And, of course, indigenous communities across the globe have long been the protectors of the natural world. I’d love to imagine more scenarios where people from all walks of line, and all belief systems, gather together to share their why. Because at the core of every single one of these disparate acts of protest is the idea that the Earth is worth fighting for.
Etc.
If you happen to be a Christian and want lovely reminders in your Substack feed about Jesus as an advocate for the poor and marginalized (it’s been helpful for me in this frustrating political climate), I highly recommend following ‘public theologian’
(who happens to have a new book— Better Ways to Read the Bible: Transforming a Weapon of Harm into a Tool of Healing— available for pre-order).